Recital for You
by Mitsukai20
Summary: Twoshot. He promised Choutarou that he would go to the recital, and damn it, he wasn't going to break his word, no matter what. Silver Pair
1. First Movement

Another Silver fic, this time it's a twoshot. I was originally going to make this a oneshot but it got too long and so I decided to cut it. The second part isn't gonna take too long to post.

Warnings: Shounen-ai Silver Pair. Some typos and Maybe OOC. Mentions of Adorable and Dirty.

* * *

Shishido Ryou tapped his foot impatiently against the hard concrete, checking his watch every now and then to look that the slowly passing time. Damn it, it was ten minutes after four, and he promised that _he_ would be here at four sharp.

_What the hell is taking him so long?! _He thought, his patience wearing thin. He wasn't a very patient person at the start, and with his nerves frazzled like this, he was bound to be more irritated than his usual. He leaned against the wall of the school compound, closing his eyes and trying to tame down the irritated snarl that was starting to rise on his throat. It really wouldn't be productive if he would punch the wall right now, since he knew the wall wouldn't even crack and he would be just nursing a bruised knuckle, resulting in him not being able to attend tennis practice, which would worry his doubles partner greatly.

Just the thought of his younger, innocent partner made him smile, the tension in his body drastically decreasing. Ootori Choutarou was good for him in various ways, and this is one of them. He could almost hear the chiding voice of the silver haired teen, telling him to calm down. A loud honk interrupted his musing however, and the image of his doubles partner disappeared, making him scowl, his annoyance returning back in full force.

"Get in, Shishido." An arrogant, holier-than-voice voice said to him from inside the sleek, black limousine exiting the gates of the campus. He grumbled back, pushing himself from the position in the wall to cross his arms and glare at the person inside the car, who rolled down the heavily tinted windows, looking up at him, wearing dark shaded sunglasses.

"What the hell took you so long, Atobe?"

The self-proclaimed (and already titled) King of the Hyotei Gakuen stared at him with a condensing look, as if he was taking to a mere six year old. "Ore-sama has many responsibilities in Hyotei, so be grateful that Ore-sama has decided to help you in your endeavor, Shishido."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Thanks a lot, Atobe." Shishido rolled his eyes as Atobe gave a little huff, muttering something along the lines of 'ungrateful bastard' before rolling up the window, letting Shishido in without too much of a fuss. He climbed in the limousine, and was promptly given the shock of his life.

"_… What the fuck are you two doing here?!_"

Oshitari Yuushi smirked at him from his lounging place by the window, facing Atobe. "Hello, Shishido. A little birdie told me that you needed some… assistance, and I would be happy to lend a hand." His violet blue eyes twinkled mischievously behind his round-shaped glasses. "All in the name of my amusement, of course."

"Fuck off, Oshitari. I didn't ask you for help." He countered back rudely, opting to glare accusingly instead at the diva. "You told him about this, didn't you?"

"Ore-sama did not do such thing." Atobe rolled his eyes in reply. "Oshitari just _happened_ to hear of our conversation and has invited himself to our little outing. But it will be for the best. His opinion will of valuable use to us." He answered dismissively. "Kabaji, let's go."

"Usu." Shishido tried not to physically jump – and failed, as the quiet second year answer with his usual taciturnity, as he was sitting in front of the limousine, beside the driver. And the car moved forward again, but Shishido wasn't finished with his complaints yet.

"Fine, Oshitari may be able to do _something,_" He grudgingly admitted, emphasizing the last word, internally smirking when the tensai's eyebrow shot up, "But what is _he_," He gestured wildly to the strawberry blond head that rested on Atobe's lap, "going to _do_?"

"Jirou would be an immense help, Shishido." The diva's blue eyes turned to the sleeping teenager below him, a small, soft smile betraying his features. "Jirou has fine taste. It's almost as good as Ore-sama's."

Ohistari chuckled, his deep seductive voice making Shishido almost shiver. Key word on the _almost_. "Well, I won't contest _that_. Akutagwa-kun does have good taste, especially in choosing his… _men_."

"Watch it, Oshitari." Atobe suddenly growled at him. The blunet only smirked wider, if only to incense the diva further. Atobe was about to retort when the blond on his lap shifted, blearily opening his eyes, showing eyes of soft, caramel brown.

"H-Huh?" He rubbed his eyes sleepily. "Wh-where am I?" He yawned. He looked up, seeing Atobe's handsome face above him. "Oh. Hey, Keigo-chan." The volley specialist smiled softly, still rubbing his eyes slightly. "I fell asleep again? Where did you find me this time, Keigo-chan?"

"Didn't Ore-sama tell you not to sleep anywhere unless it's on the clubroom couch?" Atobe scolded the teen, who was beginning to look sheepish. "Ore-sama has been looking everywhere for you."

_Oh, so THAT'S why Atobe was late,_ Shishido realized with another eye roll. Jirou giggled back. "Sorry, sorry, Keigo-chan. It's not gonna happen again, promise. Wake me up when we get there, 'kay?" He reached up and gave a swift peck to the diva's cheek and snuggled against him, dozing off to sleep again as Atobe blinked, probably wondering what the hell happened.

It was silent in the compartment…

Until Oshitari barked out a loud sound of laughter. "You are so whipped, Atobe."

It was Jirou's body physically restraining him that Atobe didn't lunge at the glasses-wearing teen just then, and was instead glaring daggers at him, with the tensai looking very amused. Shishido opted to ignore them and stared out of the window, thinking about that day that put him in this predicament in the first place…

_"Shishido-san, can I ask you something?" Choutarou asked him one slow day during tennis practice. Both of them were cooling off from a heated match with Gakuto and Oshitari, and had just barely won with a tiebreaker. The older teen sat back from his reclined position on the bench, a water bottle in hand._

_"Sure. What's up?"_

_"Well…um… you know that the yearly recital starts next week, right?" Choutarou asked hesitatingly, his soft, brown eyes concentrating on the ground below him, unable to meet his senpai's gaze._

_"Yeah." Why wouldn't he? It was the main reason that he was bereft of a doubles partner all week, since the said partner was participating in the recital as a solo pianist. Shishido tried not to show his annoyance, though. It would make him extremely guilty if he would make Choutarou think that he had abandoned his doubles partner. Not that he needed Choutarou to be with him. Definitely NOT. "What about it?"_

_"Would you… would you like to go and listen to my recital, Shishido-san?" Choutarou asked shyly, blushing darkly when Shishido straightened out in his seat to look at him in surprise. "It would really mean a lot to me." He continued earnestly, finally looking up to meet Shishido's startled gaze with his own hopeful ones. _

_Whatever Choutarou wanted to ask, Shishido hadn't been expecting THAT. He fumbled with the container on his hands, not wanting to look at his kouhai. Classical music wasn't really his thing. That and the fact that he would have to wear a tight, stuffy formal suit in a crowd of rich, snobbish students didn't make the idea very appealing to him. _

_But seeing Choutarou's face, looking so hopeful, Shishido didn't have the heart to refuse him. Who would, with that heartbreaking puppy-dog look? Maybe he would make an exception, just this once. _

_"Sure." He finally agreed, albeit grudgingly. He was going to regret this, he was sure of it. "I'll go."_

_"Really?! You'll really watch?!" Choutarou's face lit up at the answer. He was afraid that the older teen would refuse him. _

_"Why not? It's your recital, after all." _And it's you who's going to play, so I don't mind. _Shishido blinked in surprise as the thought suddenly made its way in his mind. _What did I just think about?!

_But he didn't have time to think about that, because Choutarou immediately grabbed his hands, smiling brilliantly. "Thank you very much, Shishido-san! It's a promise, then! I'll wait for you to arrive there then!"_

_His face suddenly felt warm. He coughed, discreetly withdrawing his hands from his kouhai's grasp to hide the blush that suddenly spread to his cheeks. "Don't worry about it. I'll come. I promise."_

_And as Choutarou was called by their coach in regards to the recital, Shishido was struck with a realization that made him groan loudly._

_He had nothing to WEAR. _

His daydream was fantastically ruined when the limo suddenly made a screeching stop. He blinked and focused outside the window he had absentmindedly been looking out. "…Where are we?"

"Oh? We've arrived?" Oshitari peered interestedly out the window. "That was rather fast of you, Atobe."

"Ore-sama bigi ni yoi na." Atobe answered haughtily, lightly shaking the teen on his lap awake. "Jirou, we have arrived." The blond teen yawned, opening his eyes and letting it roam over to the building outside.

"Waaaaai! Yey! Let's go, 'Shido! We don't have much time!" He suddenly sprang up like a ball of energy, grabbing Shishido's arm, which was in the danger of being pulled out of its socket by the way Jirou was tugging on it.

"Wha- Jirou, wait! Let go of me!" Shishido was dragged out of the car, followed by a chuckling Oshitari and an irate Atobe. "Where _are_ we?!"

His question was immediately answered when he saw the name of the various stalls scattered outside and towards a boutique in which Jirou was pushing him into.

Louis Vuitton. Hermes. _Giorgio Armani_.

Shishido grimaced. This was going to be a long, long day.

-/-

Ootori Choutarou couldn't help but walk around in circles, his anxiety making the pressure he felt a thousand times worse. It was a little over six in the evening, but the people had begun to arrive, their muted voices managing to pass through the thick curtain of the back stage. He smoothened out his white and silver tuxedo, feeling his hand tremble with nervousness. He gulped down deep breaths, using the exercise technique his _maestro_ had taught him to do. The recital would start in two hours and he wouldn't feel this… tense whenever he would perform, but today's performance is more special than the rest. Especially since –

"Choutarou." A voice suddenly said behind him and he literally jumped in surprise, turning around to see who called him.

"_M-Maestro_!" He choked on his words. "Don't scare me like that!"

"Sorry. Well, someone's particularly jumpy today." His music instructor continued good-naturedly with a hint of amusement. "Any particular reason why?"

"T-That's–" He stuttered back, and the other couldn't help but laugh at the tall teen's actions. "Calm down, Choutarou. Deep breaths. Don't let the tempo of your heartbeat carry you into a rhythm you can't control." The teacher intoned softly, guiding the student into one of their many sessions, seeing the teen visibly relax after a while.

"Thank you, _Maestro_." He smiled at his teacher gratefully. The teacher smiled back, but quickly frowned, worrying. "I'm always glad to help, Choutarou. But you seem very anxious today. More so than your previous recitals. Is there any particular reason why?"

"U-um…" Choutarou blushed profusely, scratching at the back of his head. "I... invited my sempai to watch my recital and… this is the first time that he's going to watch… so I'm kind of nervous…"

The teacher started to smile knowingly at Choutarou's bashful expression. "And? How does this senpai of yours look like?"

"He's… shorter than me, I guess… he has short brown hair, which he hides under a blue cap… but his hair was longer before, before he cut it…" Choutarou started off thoughtfully, starting to smile unconsciously as he described his doubles partner. "He has dark brown eyes… and it always looks intense whenever we would play a match… and…" His cheeks took on a more vibrant shade of pink. "He's good-looking… even if he doesn't notice it, but a lot of girls from my year are always talking about him, telling me how handsome Shishido-san is…" He trailed off, smiling softly. And then he saw the way his teacher was openly grinning madly at him. He squeaked and stiffened up, his face redder than a tomato.

"So _that's_ the guy, huh, Choutarou?~" His teacher sing songed, starting to move away. "Don't worry! When I find someone in the crowd with the same description, I'll let you know!"

"_M-Maestro!_"

A short bark of laughter followed.

-/-

"Damn it… this is _exactly_ why I didn't want to go to that recital in the first place…"

Eyebrow twitching, Shishido surveyed himself in the mirror with distaste, already hating the tight, constricting clothing that Jirou had put him into. But he had to admit that Atobe was right. Jirou _did_ have great fashion sense.

"Hey, 'Shido! Are you done?! Show it to us already!" The blonde's loud, impatient voice interrupted his thoughts and he twitched, not wanting to get out of that godforsaken dressing room for as long as he lived.

But, sadly, Jirou seemed to know that too.

"Hey, hey! Don't be shy! I know you'll look great!" A hand suddenly shot out of nowhere and grabbed his arm, dragging him outside of his temporary comfort zone. He struggled to get free, really he did, but he was just no match for the sugar high tennis player, who was hell bent on embarrassing him to the whole world. Well, in his mind anyway.

The curtain was unceremoniously pulled back and he was subjected to two pairs of eyes looking at him critically from head to toe. He bit his lip and blushed, muttering incoherent sentences under his breath.

"Well… This is a surprise." Oshitari was the first one to comment. "Who knew that Shishido could look this… dashing?"

"Wai! Shishido, you look so cool!" Jirou cheered.

"Ore-sama is always right, of course." Atobe nodded his approval. "You could never go wrong with black. The silver is, Ore-sama would admit, a risk, but Jirou, once again, has proven Ore-sama wrong."

"I-Idiot! Don't say things like that!" Shishido spluttered, turning redder by the second. "I know I look weird, okay?! Gekki daza daze… why the hell did I ask for your help in the first place?" He muttered.

"Not at all, Shishido. You look very… handsome." Oshitari purred, edging closer to the stall, making Shishido step back in slight fear as shivers started crawling up his spine. "What the hell are you trying to pull, Oshitari?" He snarled, putting on a defensive stance.

"Now the only thing left to do…" Oshitari raised his eyes suggestively, lowering his voice to a husky quality. "Is to do… _that_."

"What is… _that_?" Despite the warning bells in his head, Shishido just had to _ask_.

In one single motion Oshitari stood in front of him, blocking his only way out of the stall. Smirking a little at Shishido's intensely fearful look, the tensai looked back at Atobe.

"We might, uh... take a while, Atobe." He drawled out. "Will that be all right?"

"Do as you like." Atobe shrugged in nonchalance as Jirou started yawning once again. "Just don't take too long. We don't have much time."

"Understood. Now Shishido… where were we?" Slowly he stepped into the stall, shutting the curtain close behind him, looking evilly lecherous.

"No… Stay away…! Not that..! Anything but that…!" Shishido's eyes widened when he saw Oshitari's hands going for his pants.

"This won't hurt, Shishido… much."

"No! Let go of me! Don't touch – ah! No, stop it! NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

-/-

"Before you ask Choutarou, your senpai isn't here yet." The teacher cut off the question of the teen before he even opened his mouth. Choutarou looked down, feeling disappointed, making his teacher cringe visibly at the kicked puppy look. "Hey, don't look so down! I'm sure that he'll come. And it's still early, so rest easy and concentrate on your upcoming performance, okay?"

"Yes…"

But even as the teacher said those words, Choutarou still couldn't help but glance out from the curtains every now and then, hoping that a particular seat would already be filled.

-/-

"Oshitari… I hate you and I hope that you die in hell." Shishido rasped out, giving the bespectacled teen a death glare which he returned with a triumphant smirk.

"How cruel Shishido, and after all the things that I've done for you…"

"What you've done! You violated me!"

"Violated is hardly the term I call for it." Oshitari rolled his eyes as they exited the boutique, waiting at the curb where Atobe's limo would pick them up. "I merely did you a favor."

"Taking off my cap and globbing a chunkful of hair gel on my hair is _not_ doing me a favor! And why the hell do you even have a tube of hair gel in your pockets?!"

"It helps keep Gakuto's hair in shape after… certain activities." His glasses glinted.

_I don't even wanna know. _ Shishido grumbled, seeing the car stop by in front of them. Just as he was about to enter, he caught something at the corner of his eye.

"Shishido, get in. Ootori-kun's performance will start soon." The tensai realized that the dash specialist wasn't even listening to him. "What's the matter?"

"Go on ahead." Shishido wasn't looking at him; rather, he was looking at something behind the car. Oshitari noticed that the teen has his jaw clenched tightly, his face set in an oddly determined look.

"What?"

"Just go." He slammed the door shut.

"But Shishido! Ootori-kun will–!"

"Tell Choutarou…" Shishido interrupted him, still looking off at a faraway distance. "That I'll be late. But I'll come. And that… I won't go back on my word."

"Shishido!" But it was useless. The teen had already dashed off somewhere, leaving his teammates behind.

"What is going on? With Shishido running off that like that…!"

"Let's go, Kabaji. We'll be late." Atobe snapped his fingers.

"Usu." And at once, the car engine purred into life, already moving forward.

"Atobe, what are you–"

"Leave him, Oshitari." Atobe has his Insight pose on, staring out the window, Jirou sleeping soundly on his lap. "He has something to do first. But he'll come back. Ore-sama is sure of it."

-/-

"Choutarou-kun, it's time."

_So soon?!_ Quickly he glanced up to the clock, only to see that yes, it's time for the performance to start. He stood up and dashed for the curtain, peeking through it and realized, with horror, that the seat in front was still empty.

"Can't we wait just a little bit more?" He pleaded.

But the organizer shook her head. "Sorry, Choutarou-kun. The audience has been waiting for too long. We can't delay it more than what we did now."

"…Oh." He can't believe it.

_Why isn't he here yet? Did… something happen? Or… he didn't want to come after all?_

With that thought he let his hold on the curtains slacken. Was that really possible? Could Shishido-san really have… stood him up?

Head bowed, he tried to stop the tears of hurt and betrayal that was sure to follow.

* * *

Reviews and constuctive criticism appreciated.

_Mitsukai20_


	2. Last Movement

This is the second part of the fic, as promised. I would recommend listening to Yiruma's **River Flows in You** at one point in this story, as to where, well, you could see it for yourself.

Silver Pair ahead. Some typos and maybe OOC.

* * *

Shishido walked quickly, trying as much as possible not to attract any attention to himself as he twisted this way and that, trying to find a suitable location. And he found it at last, in the park, where people were scarce and the lighting was dim. Perfect.

"There's no one to stop us here, so come out, you dirty little bastards!"

One by one they did come out, their faces the mask of terrible jealousy and hate as they slowly advanced on the Hyotei regular, who was taking his outer coat off, disgust clearly shown on his face.

"So, after tasting you defeat in tennis, you decide to settle the score this way instead. Assholes." Shishido snarled, pushing up his sleeves. "You don't have any pride as men, don't you?"

"Shishido Ryou…" One of them sneered, flipping the switchblade open, the metallic sheen glinting in the dull moonlight. "After this, you won't be able to step into another tennis court ever again."

"You could take your offer and fuck it to hell." Shishido started to adopt a defensive stance, a smirk highlighting his features.

"Sorry boys, but we'll have to make this quick. I have a date to go to and I really don't want to stand him up just because of some worthless pieces of shit who can't even back themselves up with a tennis racket."

"Why you–!"

They lunged at him, and the fight began.

-/-

"Ore-sama demands that the recital be halted for another fifteen minutes." A voice reached his ears and he looked up, blinking back the tears that were in danger of falling from his face. He gave a little gasp of surprise as three people entered through the back door of the stage, making most of the crew jump back as the foremost of the three strutted inside as if he owned the place.

"A-Atobe-san! Oshitari-san! Jirou-san! What are you doing here?" He asked, completely befuddled.

"Good evening, Ootori-kun." The bespectacled teen greeted him smoothly, taking a side glace towards the female crew who immediately blushed and fainted. "Sorry for intruding."

"Atobe-sama!" The organizer gaped as the diva turned to stare at her with his ice blue eyes, making her feel like jelly inside. "W-What can I do for you?" She asked, a bit breathless.

"Postpone Ootori's performance." Atobe ordered coolly.

"B-But, Atobe-sama, we can't!" She protested, despite the fact that this was the literal King of Hyotei Gakuen she was going up against. "The people are–!"

"The people can wait. There is still one guest that hasn't arrived."

"Um… Atobe-san…" Choutarou just _had_ to interrupt the growing argument. "Do you know where Shishido-san is–"

"Don't worry your pretty silver head, Ootori-kun." Oshitari cut in smoothly. "I brought a message from your Shishido-san."

Choutarou blushed at the older teen's words. "O-Oshitari-san!"

Oshitari smirked and decided to slightly alter the dash specialist's words. After all, he has 'matchmaker' as part of his part-time jobs. "He said: 'I'll be late, but I'll definitely come to see your performance. This is a selfish request but please wait for me.'" Well, reading those romance novels certainly paid off now.

_Wait for him? So… Shishido-san didn't stand me up? _

Choutarou really didn't think that he could get more flushed or very indescribably happy than he was now.

-/-

A couple of them were down, but he was nowhere near done.

Shishido swore, flexing his aching fists as he looked left and right, anticipating the next person/s who would try to take him down. Despite the fact that he was all alone and they were a sizable group, he was able to hold his own ground, quickly punching the lights out of the first two who dared try to come to him. The numbers were decreased but the situation was still dangerous. He can't run away. If he did they might follow him again and they might see Choutarou. He doubted that they could establish the connection between the teen and him, with their not so brilliant minds, but they might be seen together, and someone who has a few neurons could eventually make out their ties.

Who knows what they would do to his angelic kouhai just to get back at him, and that was an option Shishido was NOT willing to take.

He had to take of these guys. Right now.

"Now, come! Come and get me! Or are you scared?!" He wasn't the one to goad his opponents, especially in a potentially life and death situation, but he was running out of time, and he really wanted to get this over with. He was unkempt and ruffled from all the fighting, the silver dress shirt Jirou got for him was visibly smudged and dirtied in places, his hair that was forcefully styled by Oshitari was already matted down with sweat (which he was internally thankful about) and he needed to be somewhat presentable at the recital or Atobe would have his ass for being an ungrateful bastard.

"You cocky bastard!" Their leader, Shishido assumed, has finally had enough of him and decided to become serious. "Guys, get him!"

"Not again…!" Shishido weaved through the charging bodies, fists and feet flying, managing to take one out using an upper-cut and another with a well-timed clothesline from hell. He buried his elbow into a gut when one managed to get behind him, hearing him grunt, and stopping a charge with a sideways kick, twisting around to meet a guy with a punch to the face, hearing the gyrating sound of a breaking nose, sending the other man flying.

It's been a while since he's been involved in a brawl, since he promised Choutarou that he wouldn't fight unless completely necessary, but _damn_, it felt good.

Sending another three of four guys to the ground, he faced the rest, curling his finger into the 'come hither' gesture, which he knew would royally piss off the guys who were after him.

"Son of a bitch!"

Shishido's eyes narrowed when he saw the weapons. _Shit, this could be bad._ While he had escaped with only a few scratches and bruises up to this moment, he knew he was going to be in for it now.

_Choutarou…!_

-/-

"Shishido-san!" The tall teen stood and looked up towards the curtains, anxiety starting to build up in him. His _maestro_ heard the exclamation and moved toward the teen, worry the main expression on the student's face.

"Choutarou? What's wrong?"

"_Maestro_…" Choutarou looked into the questioning gaze of his teacher and shook his head. "No, it's nothing."

As his teacher seemed to accept that and leave him to his devices, Choutarou could not help but bite his lip in vexation and concern.

_I could almost swear that I heard Shishido-san calling me just now…_

"Ootori-kun, we really can't delay it anymore. You have to come out on the stage."

As he nodded and finally went out, receiving the customary applause, he saw that the chair directly in front of him was still empty. Fighting the disappointed feeling in his chest, he exhaled deeply and sat on the piano bench, fingers directly poised on the black and white keys, his thoughts went back on his estranged doubles partner, the ominous feeling never disappearing.

_Shishido-san… please be okay… _He wished fervently, starting the first movement, the melody completely in discord with his emotions.

-/-

"Damn it!" Shishido knew he was starting to bleed. Spitting out the coppery, metallic taste of blood in his mouth he wiped the corner of his lips with his sleeve, finally straightening out as he surveyed his handiwork. Most of them were laying face down, completely out cold and the ones that remained conscious decided to spare their bodies another beating and quickly scampered off. Sore, bruised, and wounded to boot, Shishido knew, without looking at his watch, that he had completely missed the recital.

_… Shit. Choutarou's gonna kill me._

With that thought, he wordlessly collected his outer clothes and slowly exited the park, wincing as the pain in his body doubled every now and then. While getting into fights was fun enough for him, the aftermath was definitely not worth it. He saw the stares of the people he passed by and completely ignored them, only intent on getting home so he could apologize to Choutarou through a phone call and somehow make it up for him in the future. He knew that he looked like a complete wreck anyway.

Finally arriving at the steps of his home, he unlocked the front door and entered without so much as a greeting, making his way through the foyer to grab the phone that was just below the staircase. Punching in the numbers that he committed to memory, he waited, hearing the three ringing chimes before the phone was picked up from the other line.

_'Good evening, this is the Ootori residence. How may I help you?'_

Steeling himself, Shishido let out a breath before speaking. "G-Good evening. This is Shishido, Choutarou-kun's," He winced when he almost slipped and forgot the honorific. "Teammate."

**_'Oh, Ryou-kun?'_** The woman on the other side asked, surprised. There was only one person in Choutarou's family that called him that, and frankly, he was glad that it was Choutarou's older sister who picked up the phone. The older teen was the female version of Choutarou: gentle, kind and nothing but nice to him whenever he would go visit his kouhai's home, and for that he felt nothing but the deepest respect for her.

"Good evening, Chiko-san. Is Choutarou there?"

The next words stopped him cold. 

**_'What are you talking about, Ryou-kun? Isn't Choutarou with you?'_**

"Choutarou… isn't home?!" A thousand possibilities ran though his head. Why isn't Choutarou at home yet?! The recital ended _hours_ ago! Unless…!

_That bastards! Don't tell me they tailed Choutarou as well...!_

**_'Ryou-kun, is everything all right?'_**Choutarou's sister asked; worry starting to emanate from her voice. **_'Is there something I need to know?'_**

"Ah, no–" Immediately he assured her that everything's all right, all the while thinking about just where the tall silveret may be. His mind scanned infinite possibilities: the tennis courts, the music room, just anywhere he could think about that his kouhai may be.

He said his goodbyes and hung up, taking his coat and was about to leave the house again to search when something in his memory bubbled to the surface, a fleeting scene, a promise made and was waiting to be kept…

_Don't tell me…! _

He was out of the house in a flash, flurrying through the streets like a tornado, his unhealed body screaming in pain, but he paid it no heed. He just remembered… how could he have forgotten about _that_?!

**It's a promise, then! I'll wait for you to arrive there then!**

_Choutarou, you… _Shishido didn't even finish his thoughts as he breezed through the corner, the exhaustion taking its toll on him as he finally entered the Hyotei Gakuen campus grounds. With only adrenaline pushing him further, he looked left and right, he finally found the building he was looking for and dashed towards it, pushing his body to the limit as he pushed the double doors open.

"CHOUTAROU!"

His loud voice echoed through the empty auditorium.

-/-

Choutarou patiently sat on the edge of the stage the moment he knew that everyone was gone. His teacher asked him if he wanted to celebrate but he declined, saying that he had something to do. The recital was already over, and yet he knew he can't leave yet. Not until his guest arrived.

The disquieting feeling in his heart stayed. Thankfully it didn't show up in his playing, but his teacher seemed to know just how out of balance he was. And he was still feeling it now, but to a lesser degree.

Shishido-san asked him to wait, and so he would wait. Rarely did Shishido-san ask him to do something, and when he did, it's something of great importance. No matter how long it takes, he would wait. The older teen never broke his promises to him, and he was sure that even at this time, Shishido-san would not fail him. He trusted the older teen completely, and has never found any reason to doubt that he wouldn't come.

Shishido-san would arrive. He's sure of it.

"CHOUTAROU!"

The sound of his name startled him and he looked up to the origin of the voice. And there he was, leaning against the doorframe, looking terribly disheveled and exhausted.

Choutarou was unable to move, his stare fixated on the person above the auditorium, his lips parted in a gasp. He knew it was his senpai. No one could be loud enough to scream his name like that without any honorific and, even though he was against the shadow, Choutarou could see, with his experienced eyes, the lean frame, the strong shoulders, and the dark, soulful eyes that were looking straight at him.

He had come.

-/-

Shishido slumped in obvious relief, seeing his kouhai below, looking bewildered.

"Thank god… so you were here all along…" With great effort he pushed himself off the wall and staggered, trying to keep himself upright. He started down the long flight of stairs, only to realize that he had pushed himself too much.

_Shit… _He was starting to black out. _I must've fought harder than I thought…_

"Shishido-san!" Dimly he heard his name being called, and he reached out in front of him, tripping on his own feet, blackness starting to overtake him as he knew that it was going to be a _very_ painful way down…

-/-

"Shishido-san!" He jumped off the stage the moment his senpai started moving. The older teen was swaying, unstable, and deeply hurt, as Choutarou came to see the bruises and the blood stained clothes illuminated by the stage light. Eyes widening, he started up the stairs, meeting his senpai halfway, who was already falling down, half-conscious.

Everything was in slow motion. He knew he was moving, and at a fast pace at that, but it seemed to him that he would never reach the older teen, who has his arm stretched out as if to grab hold of something in front of him.

_Let me… make it!_

But finally, a warm body collided with his own, and he quickly wrapped his arms around the warm but limp body, steadying himself as he kept his balance on the stairs, his eyes roaming around worriedly over the older teen's beaten form.

"Shishido-san! Are you all right?! You're hurt! What happened?"

The older teen steadied himself, grasping the tall teen's arms to prop himself up to look at his worried kouhai's face. "I'm fine… don't worry about this…"

"But–"

"I told you, Choutarou… that… I'll come to see your recital… I promised you…" He looked straight at Choutarou's brown eyes. "And…"

"I never go back on my word."

The way the older teen stared at him left him breathless. It was so intense, so soul searching that it made him feel vulnerable. He blushed at their close proximity, but nodded in understanding.

"I get it, Shishido-san." He smiled softly.

"Now, Shishido-san, please listen."

"Listen…?"

"Please listen… to my recital."

-/-

Shishido settled comfortably into his seat, despite the various aches that occurred in his body. He watched his kouhai come up the stage and arrive at the grand piano, his fingers just lightly touching the keys. With a side glance and a smile, Choutarou once again sat down on the bench, poised and ready to play.

"Shishido-san, please listen to my song."

He started off slowly, pausing, leaving the melody hanging, before repeating it again.

Shishido gaped, his mouth hanging as he listened to the first movement. It wasn't just a jumble of notes. He felt as if he was detached from the reality, entering a dream like world where Choutarou was the one leading him, putting him under a spell, listening to a tale that was so familiar to him…

His eyes widened. It was their story, their ups and downs, their struggles and hardships, their victories and triumphs, all weaved into one melody, harmonious and united, different and the same all at once. Raw emotion gripped his heart tightly, heart thudding loudly in his chest as the song questioned and probed gently into his core. Choutarou was playing with his eyes closed, letting his fingers weave through the black and white keys like silk. No words were said; rather, the younger teen let the music instrument speak the words for him, telling Shishido of their history together as teammates and friends.

As the music rose up to a glistening crescendo, it revealed untold feelings, with confessions that can't be said verbally spilling out into the melody.

_Shishido-san, I love you. So much that I don't know that to do with myself anymore. But… do you feel the same way for me too?_

The song alternated between their past and their possible future. Again and again Choutarou asked him the same question through the piano keys, from allegretto to andante, as he showed the older teen nothing but the inner depths of his soul, the sound echoing all throughout the empty auditorium.

He can't move. The sound was engulfing him, swallowing him whole as he drowned in his myriad of emotions, seeing nothing, feeling nothing, only hearing the sweet, melodious music that seemed to tear his heart in two, but at the time, complete it fully.

It was as confusing as hell. But he understood it perfectly.

_I… also…_

The melody slowed, and with it, came back reality, and Shishido blinked, starting to be aware of the clear liquid pooling in his eyes. Tentatively he touched his cheek, finding it wet and tear streaked.

_When did I… start crying…?_

Choutarou was still playing, but the spell was ending, and Shishido found himself standing up, jumping on to the platform, standing in front of his kouhai, who was finishing the mast movement, looking like an angel in disguise. Finally the last tone melted away, leaving an almost intangible silence between them.

-/-

Choutarou sighed, finally opening his eyes. It was his final piece, the only composition he never played except for this moment. For him, it was a very special melody, one that immediately captured his heart the moment he heard of it. It reminded him of Shishido-san, his kindness, his strength, his… his everything.

He looked up to the audience and smiled. "What do you think, Shishido-sa–"

He never fully finished that sentence. His brown eyes widened, shock evident on his features as lips descended down and met his own in a kiss. Large, warm hands cupped his face, never breaking its gentle hold on him. But soon he got over his initial reaction, curling his fingers around the silver dress shirt, pulling the older teen with him as he pressed his back against the edge of the grand piano, accidentally pushing against the keys, making a dissonant sound the lingered in the air as lips and hands became more passionate.

But they really couldn't care less at that moment. There was something much more important things to focus their attentions on, mainly each other.

* * *

Reviews and constructive criticism appreciated.

_Mitsukai20_


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